Chapter 72: Training starts.

Zyra was jolted awake by the shrill blast of a whistle. It cut through the air like a blade, echoing off the walls. She sat up, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her fingers curled to claw into leather that wasn’t there. Slowly, the adrenaline high began to curdle into pure, unadulterated fury.

Hunter stood by the door, entirely unbothered, looking exactly as he had for the last few days. The same faded denim jeans, the same dark tactical vest, and the same unreadable, stoic expression that made Zyra want to punch him squarely in the jaw.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" she snapped, her voice cracking slightly with leftover sleep. "What the hell was that for? waking me with a whistle like I am in a military boot camp."

Hunter didn’t blink. He calmly tucked the blue whistle back into his vest pocket, crossed his arms, and leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom. "Yes, you are henceforth until your training is done, consider this your personal boot camp." He looked at his watch, "Reaction time, four point two seconds. Slow. If we’d been attacked, you’d be bound and gagged on the back of a flying beast by now." He tilted his head, looking thoughtful, "Or a car trunk. It depends on how rich and resourceful the person who is after you is."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her mind. "Still, it is only 05:00 AM! Even the school bells go off at 06:00 AM." Zyra glared at him, wishing she had the telekinetic power to hurl the entire bed at his head. Instead, she aggressively got out of bed, pulled on her boots, tugging the laces so hard they snapped taut with a sharp crack.

No matter what he thought, she had made some preparations. After a comfortable shower, she had chosen to sleep in training clothes and put her boots by the bed. Sleeping naked or in pajamas was not ideal in the world they lived in. At any moment, you could find yourself running for your life.

"Faster, faster. I do not care what your school taught you, we are starting afresh!" Hunter shouted, his voice echoing off the walls strongly.

"At least keep your voice down, you will wake the beasts at this rate," she muttered under her breath, rubbing her blurry eyes.

"The beasts are already training... it’s only the lazy bones of our group that is still sleeping," Hunter replied sharply, not giving her an inch. "You have three minutes or else you will be giving me 100 push-ups for being late. Meet us at the training ground."

Zyra rolled her eyes. One hundred push-ups? Yeah, right, she thought, not taking him seriously at all. She took her sweet time, even detouring to the kitchen counter to grab a sugary, frosted cupcake she’d saved from yesterday.

When she finally strolled into the training ground, Hunter’s eyes locked onto her. He didn’t look amused. "Start doing the push-ups," Hunter said flatly.

Zyra almost choked on her cake. "Wait, seriously? I was only a little....."

"One. Hundred," Hunter repeated. "Now. Before the sugar hits your brain. For some reason you seem to think it’s okay to push me, forgetting how weak you are. I need you to take this seriously. Your invisible friend will not always be there to save you."

Groaning loudly, Zyra dropped the rest of her cupcake onto a clean stone table and walked to the open ground where Tyrant was leading Spice and the squirrel in what looked like meditation.

She lowered herself to the dirt floor and started off with a flair, showing off. She managed to count up to twenty-five, and her arms instantly started shaking. Her physique was not in good form. She hadn’t touched a weight or done a single conditioning drill since she left school at eighteen. Her muscles felt like soft jelly.

"Beauty," Zyra called out desperately in her mind. "Hey, Beauty... do me a solid. Go to the system shop and buy me a muscle building potion. Quick, before my arms collapse!"

A cold, feminine voice echoed back in her head. [No.]

What do you mean, no?! Zyra collapsed face-first into the dirt, her strength completely giving out at push-up number thirty-three. "Why?" she groaned out loud, completely miserable.

Beauty gave a small, metaphorical sniff of disapproval. [Because that would be cheating. Real physical mastery cannot be bought with system drinks, host. Build your own muscles.]

Zyra scoffed into the dirt, tasting dust. Some supportive system you are!

[I gave you unassigned points that you used to boost your strength. With a little training, you will be doing 1000 pushups in ten minutes.]

A shadow fell over her. Hunter walked up, standing over her slumped body like a merciless mountain. "Get up. You are starting afresh again. Back to zero."

Zyra snapped her head up, her eyes wide. "What?!"

"AGAIN!" Hunter shouted, his voice booming across the courtyard. "You were way too slow during our last hunt. Do you think a wild beast will wait for you to catch your breath? I cannot focus on fighting when I am constantly sweating over whether you are going to stay alive or get eaten! Up! If powerful things start escaping the Veil, you are toast. You need to be equal in power or greater."

Zyra bit her lip, a mix of anger and shame burning in her chest. He was right, which made it hurt even more. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up and started the count all over again.

A few yards away, the beasts training was adjusted too. Hunter wanted to test their speed. Tyrant, Spice and the squirrel, were zipping around the perimeter. Hunter had tied, heavy iron weights to Tyrant’s hind legs, forcing it to growl in frustration as he tried to maintain his usual impressive speed.

Meanwhile, Spice was rolling on the floor as if it had eaten ten deer and the Squirrel was only moving to places where it smelled hidden nuts.

"Keep your core tight, Spice! Tyrant, lift those legs, you look like a fat cat! Squirrel every second you drag on, I confiscate a nut. And Spice....what are you doing? Move!" Hunter barked orders at them.

Zyra grinned. At least she wasn’t alone. She focused her mind, taking the training more seriously. Beauty was right, she was stronger than before. She couldn’t feel sorry for herself, so she pushed on with determination, while the system counted.

"Done!" Zyra gasped after what felt like an eternity, her arms burning as if they were on fire.

"Good. Now run," Hunter commanded instantly. He hadn’t even let her stand up fully before grabbing her by the back of her shirt and carrying her to another arranged area. "Jump over the balls. Go! Faster! Faster! We don’t have time to start from ordinary running."

Zyra started jogging, her legs feeling like lead. She approached the first ball and leaped, barely clearing it. Hunter had not started from an easy course but gone straight to difficult mode.

"Too slow! A low-level beast could catch you at that pace! Faster!" Hunter yelled.

Every single time Zyra slowed down to catch her breath, Hunter’s voice would slice through the air: "Start again! From the beginning!"

By the three-hour mark, Zyra was sweating through her clothes, her lungs burning for oxygen. She couldn’t take another step. Her brain scrambled for an escape plan. If I faint, he has to stop, she thought desperately.

With a dramatic gasp, Zyra let her knees buckle and collapsed onto the grass, closing her eyes tightly and letting her limbs go completely limp. She even let out a soft, pathetic groan for effect.

[ha-ha-ha!] Beauty laughed.

Silence filled the courtyard. Zyra held her breath, waiting for Hunter to panic.